


Let Me Shatter On Your Shore

by TemporalRanger (dorianpavus)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-02
Updated: 2010-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorianpavus/pseuds/TemporalRanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean just wants someone to fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Shatter On Your Shore

It's tug-pull-bite-growl- _mine_ across the room as they stumble across the unfamiliar floor, trailing kisses that are more tooth than lip and full of anger and grief more than they are love or joy at survival.

It's _shove_ -stumble-whimper-gasp towards the bed until there's something soft-firm behind his legs and he's wrapping his fist in blue silk and pulling an angel down with him onto sheets stained with who-knows-and-who-the-fuck-cares, skims his teeth along rough stubble and bites at his earlobe, worrying at it while a hand slides down the side of his neck, catches in the neck of his tee and yanks, fabric tearing before there are too-hot hands running over his skin, light and half-worshipful and it's _wrong_.

Dean growls, tightens his grip on the tie and rolls them over in a blur of beige and black and brown, shoves Cas back down into the worn comforter and he just _lets_ him, all loose limbs and pliable muscle and sad blue eyes full of ancient pity until Dean looks away, turns his attention to a line of buttons, fumbles at them and swears under his breath with a vicious edge until they're suddenly gone, vanished under his fingers. He curls them, digs his nails into smooth skin and drags them down, claws at skin that ignores his attempts to own it, to mark it because it's too easy, too fucking easy and he wants to _take_ but Cas just keeps _giving_ and it was _wrong_.

He wants something to fight against, something hard and implacable and _other_ , something he can throw himself against until he shatters into tiny pieces. Something he can blame, _something to hate_ , to spend himself against until he can't _think_ , can't _feel_.

He growls something else, must be "Wings" because they snap into being, a dark shadow sprawling across the bed and spilling across the floor that he can bury his fingers in, pulling at feathers like _I hate you. I love you. I hate you._ until Cas' breath hitches, catches in his throat as he moans and his fingers tangle in Dean's hair, pulling his head down to where he can mash their mouths together and Dean thinks _finally_ and bites at his lip, shoves his tongue into Cas' like an invasion but it just opens under him, all easy give and whorish opened-mouth kisses and sucking on Dean's tongue like he'll swallow it if Dean asks, like his gag reflex is non existent and breathing is optional because _this_ is more important as he presses upward, grinding against him in some desperate search for friction.

Dean draws back, glares at the way the angel's pupils are blown wide under half closed lids, the easy, lazy way his head tilts back to offer his neck, the way his wings shiver with something but don't move, just wait, wait for him to tell them what they're doing, what he wants and he leans down, bites at exposed collarbone and gnaws at it with his teeth, working _fight me, goddamnit_ into the thin skin over the bone as Cas thumb rubs at his nipples until Dean shoves him back down, presses him back into yellow sheets and hisses "lube" into his ear and it's brief seconds before the bottle is in his hand and he's shoving impatiently at Cas' orange briefs with the other until they're far enough down his thighs that he can get some access.

Doesn't bother lubing much - Cas doesn't need it anymore, not really, not since he came back with grace spilling out of him and his doubts all gone just like that - works two fingers in at once, hard and too fast just to get some kind of objection, some kind of sign that Cas isn't just going to let him do whatever he feels like, like it's penance he deserves when it was all Dean's fault in the first place, but he just tilts his hips to give Dean an easier angle and swallows back a moan. Dean can't resist leaning forward, scraping his teeth over the bob of Adam's apple before Cas tilts his head to the side and he can bite _Why didn't you save him?_ into the delicate skin, bites it hard and furious till his jaw aches but when he draws back there's nothing but a slightly pink patch of skin and his face is wet with tears of frustration and aching grief.

He turns away, shoves his boxers off and pulls the angels the rest off the way until he can hurl them at some random corner of the room, stares after them for a moment until arms slide around him from behind and Cas' voice is soft and compassionate in his ear.

"Dean. It's not your f-"

Dean shrugs him off, turns and shoves him back into the mattress because he's _not allowed to say that_ , not allowed to absolve Dean of his sin, of what he's done, _of what Cas let him do_ and he just wants to...

He fucks him hard and fast and messy until he feels him spill over his hand and tighten around him, fucks an angel in a run down motel with suspicious stains and a matress that's more spring than stuffing and his voice is broken and shattered against his neck as he says "Fight me, goddamnyou. _Fight me_."

Cas just smiles at him sadly, as he pulls him back down, slides forgiving arms around him and says "No" as gently as he can, holds him as he shudders through his release and doesn't let him go afterwards, just holds him until he stops struggling against it.

"No."


End file.
